


Gas Leak

by myaso



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Burping, Excessive Drinking, Farting, Gas - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Only, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 18:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17330522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaso/pseuds/myaso
Summary: Brainstorm believes that he's safe from prying eyes once he stumbles back to his lab, but Perceptor has different plans.





	Gas Leak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Suede (ShogunOfSorrow)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShogunOfSorrow/gifts).



In the days that Brainstorm still made it a habit to interact with others, he would have often quipped that, ‘the biggest mistake you could make was assuming that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room’. Now, though he had no one but Chromedome to quip to, that line would be something more like, ‘the biggest mistake that you can make is assuming that I don’t like to have fun just because I’m a loner’.

He wasn’t a bore, or at least, nothing like Perceptor was- Primus, no, he was worlds away from that fun-sucker. Brainstorm giggled to himself at that, as he stumbled up to the door of his lab.

“Come on…”

Brainstorm fumbled to unlock the door from the keypad. The universe’s smartest mech, and he couldn’t even unlock a door? No, if anything,  _ this _ was why he didn’t drink as much as he probably could have- he hated feeling stupid. When the door finally slid open, Brainstorm had to push himself off of the wall just to get inside, one hand going to his mouth as he did so.  _ Alright _ , he thought,  _ there are a  _ lot  _ of reasons why I don’t drink often _ . 

The haze of energon hadn’t yet worn off from him, and his night of partying still felt like it hadn’t ended. Brainstorm shuffled to his usual chair and flopped down, though he immediately regretted it. His tanks growled angrily, and the hand at his mouth clasped tighter, as if that would do anything to help the situation. One small belch escaped his mouth, and he felt his face flush beneath his mask; usually a boon, the damn thing was now trapping the smell of his gas against his face. He had managed to keep it on while still in the bar- thank  _ Primus _ that he still had his wits about him enough for that- but now, relaxing in his habsuite, Brainstorm decided to remove it.

Even the shifting of his arms as he unlatched the mask was enough to set off his tanks. They gurgled louder, and Brainstorm’s hands went to his swollen midsection. Had it really been that big in the bar…? With a frown, Brainstorm began to hope that no one had noticed his shame, especially not when it had been so hard to hold all of that gas in until he could make it home. Another belch escaped his lips as he began to rub his bloated belly.

“Urgh…”

He wasn’t sure why he was still holding it all in- embarrassment, maybe? Even alone, where no one could see him, he felt like he still had an image to keep up, like he still needed to be the infallible genius that only Chromedome was allowed to see through the ruse of. Brainstorm belched again, loud and sustained, as he let his mind slip. More rubbing brought out even more belching, and Brainstorm began to resign himself to it- after all, it  _ did _ feel good to let out that gas.

A warm smile spread across his face as he relaxed more, until Brainstorm’s relaxation brought with it an unfortunate side effect. As warm as his smile, a burst of gas escape from his rear, and Brainstorm felt his face flush at the sudden eruption. He couldn’t help but giggle, though, as it had been decidedly  _ not _ quiet at all.

The giggling didn’t last long, though, as an ache began to settle into Brainstorm’s belly, and he found himself pressing harder on his midsection to relieve some of the pain. A quieter fart slipped out as he moved his hands in a tight circle, a long,  _ wet _ burp fell out of his mouth like a foghorn. Brainstorm whined. He knew how gassy he got from even a few pints, but he was in more than a few deep- and definitely in over his head, at that. His tanks continued to growl and bubble, as if speaking to him, saying something along the lines of ‘why did you do this to me, jerk!?’.

Brainstorm felt a distinctive, heavy pressing feeling in his gut, and he had to strain himself that time as he purposely attempted to let out the trapped gas. He was nearly moaning as he strained, changing the direction of his rubbing a bit in an attempt to free it. He belched again, feeling nauseous from the exertion, until it finally came out. 

In the back room of Brainstorm’s lab, a different kind of commotion was occuring- one that, had Brainstorm been aware of it, he definitely would not have been happy about (and definitely wouldn’t have been behaving in this way). Perceptor’s feet scuffed against a metal box as he stood up on it, attempting to see into the vent. He felt so...debauched, so  _ lecherous _ , but he was still attempting to convince himself that he was only watching out of curiosity. Scientific curiosity, maybe, if he really wanted to be even  _ deeper _ in denial. Yes, Perceptor, thought- a study in how much gas a ‘bot could store in their tanks after downing 13 beers.

When Perceptor managed to get a good view from inside of the dark room, the first thing that he thought wasn’t actually about Brainstorm; no, the mech actually had been plagued by logical thought in the end, wondering if his own lab was this easy to peer into. When the view actually registered in Perceptor’s mind, though, he felt as dumb as a turbohound.

“Oh, frag!”

Brainstorm swore inside of his lab. It was all that he could do to let out as much gas as he could, rubbing as hard as the pain would allow. He felt hot and nauseous, as rank gas continued to slip out from both ends. He muffled his mouth with one hand, but the real problem seemed to be from the other end- he was somehow both incapable of freeing the painful trapped air below, and constantly letting slip smaller, inconsequential farts. Both hands went to grip his stomach from either side, and he let out a groan, pushing harder to try and release the trapped air. For all of his pushing and belly rubbing, though, he was only rewarded with a particularly nasty belch, actually gagging a bit at the end- it had nearly become something more.

That was the problem, really- there was nothing  _ to _ come up or come out, or at least not yet. Brainstorm could only continue to whine until his body processed the energon into waste, feeling stuck by the metaphorical rock in his tanks. Perceptor’s mouth hung open as he watched Brainstorm- sure, he had packed away a decent amount of bar food alongside his drinks, too, but surely not enough to cause  _ this much _ distress, right?

Perceptor wasn’t complaining, though, but he wasn’t sure how he felt. He was watching his...whatever he felt like calling Brainstorm at the moment, sitting there without shame, belching and farting and like a pig. He had specifically broken into a locked room to do so, after following Brainstorm back to his lab, and he had then climbed onto a precarious mountain of boxes to get a better look. This was a deliberate action, and a very stupid one, at that.

Back inside the lab, Brainstorm cried out. Perceptor felt his spark race.

Brainstorm braced himself against the sides of the chair. Only the smallest burps escaped him as he focused on the real problem at hand (or, rather, at  _ tank _ ), and he desperately tried to push. He groaned again, then cried out once more. Brainstorm’s tanks were incessantly chattering at him, the stretched protoform above them near-constantly spasming, but with a final, hard, push, Brainstorm managed to find some relief.

It was the loudest, wettest,  _ longest _ fart that either Brainstorm or Perceptor had ever heard. Even as Brainstorm relaxed back into his chair, as his hand went back to muffle more belches from his mouth, it only seemed to get  **_louder_ ** . Brainstorm moaned between belches, and it still kept going, oblivious to the way that boths mech privy to it were beginning to get overwhelmed.

“ _ Frag _ …”

Once it had finally stopped, Brainstorm rubbed his belly, now considerably smaller. He still didn’t quite feel empty, and sure enough, more flatulence managed to slip out of him- but this time, it was actually coming out by itself, with only the slightest push to guide it.

He relaxed like that, sighing a bit as the gas slowly began to slow, but the relaxation was not shared between Brainstorm and Perceptor. Perceptor himself was shaking, now, for reasons much different than Brainstorm- hell, he hadn’t had a single drink at the bar, just ordered a basket of onion rings that had ultimately gone happily down Brainstorm’s gullet. Perceptor could hardly even steady himself, while Brainstorm seemed to be actually relaxing- oh, but he was  _ still _ somehow gassy, little belches slipping out of him as he began to giggle at them once again.

With shaking palms and a thoroughly confused processor, Perceptor climbed down from his voyeur’s tower, and in the other room, an equally-exhausted Brainstorm relaxed as much as his turbulent belly would allow him to.

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for AKU! 
> 
> You can go to my twitter (https://twitter.com/robotpornhell) to find out how to support me!


End file.
